Richman - America the edible: a hungry history, from sea to dining sea

This is for the eaters,
the lovers,
the livers, and the liars.

For my
friends, my family,
and for you.

America the Edible is a collection of love letters to some of my favorite food places, their histories, and the time I spent there. It is an admittedly idiosyncratic survey. These cities are a pastiche of the places Ive lived, places work has taken me, places wanderlust and fate have plopped me in the middle of. There was no particular rhyme or reason to their selection, merely the fact that I have had wonderful and varied food experiences in each.

It is also, if Im to be honest with myself as well as you, dear reader, a little bit of an examination of appetites both gastronomic and otherwise. When I look back at the great bites Ive encountered throughout my life, it has always been the context, the companionship, all the wonderful ancillary bips and bops that have shaped the excellence of the meal. Food on its own can do only so much to be transportive; its when you add the seasoning provided by a loved (or loathed) one across the table and the circumstances that brought you there that a meal becomes truly memorable (for better or worse).

When I started a food journal in college (which not only helped me land the gig on Man v. Food, but also became the basis for the book in your hands), it was after a monster breakup. I found myself at a small place Id discovered in Atlanta, and the waitresss kindness and the music that was playing became as much a part of the experience and the memory as the food on my plate. And I think thats true for most of us: The people we share an experience with become part of that experience. Those meals, those times, would not have been nearly as delicious without them.

I initially conceived of this book as an accessible, nondogmatic, non-douchey guide to the culinary anthropology of a handful of American cities, some known as culinary giants and others without such lauded food identities.

Ive long been intrigued by the notion of culinary anthropology. When I was a struggling actor supporting myself by working in the restaurant industry, I saw an episode of a cooking show that featured a culinary anthropologist. Her knowledge and her perspective on food blew me away; realizing that one could connect the study of humanity with what a particular group of people ate, how their foods were named, and how they were served made me look at the edible world around me in a whole new way. When examined through the lens of culinary anthropology, a dish becomes an edible manifestation of the wars, immigrations, weather patterns, and agricultural practices that shaped itall in one tasty, bite-size morsel. For that reason, whenever I am eating in a new town (and I am often eating in a new town), I make it a point to patronize local, independent places with dishes that speak to the personal histories of those who create and serve them. So that was my initial impulsea tome of culinary anthro from a kid who learned most of what he knows about the topic at the Brooklyn Public Library.

Things No Foodie Traveller Should Be Without

1. Antacid (Im partial to Zantac)
2. Hand sanitizer gel (especially if youre doing street food)
3. Napkins or a wet wipe or two because they dont always put napkins in the bag
4. A journal-write everything down!
5. Mints-not just in case of bad breath, but also for times (like when a dish sacks) when yon want to cleanse your palate ASAFP! I like Listerine PocketPak strips

But when I started to winnow down the cities I wanted to write about to a manageable number, I realized that it was the firsthand experiences more than the histories and the statistics that really brought the food story of a place to life. I have always been peripatetic by nature, following girls, jobs, and acting gigs literally from coast to coast and from north to south. My TV career and a new love took me to Austin, my theater career took me to St. Louis, my moms womb took me to Brooklyn, a girlfriends dad took me to Hawaii, and on it goes. It was on these journeys that I made the culinary discoveries that I recorded in that food journal (which I still continue to this day). It was not a collection of jaded, antiseptic reviews, but a collection of facts, thoughts, even photos, in which I attempted to capture the feel of a place as much as its fare. And in the final analysis, the feel is what really counts, what endures. These places left their marks on me and I, in turn, dove into them face-first, fork-first, tasting the foods beside the locals who eat them every day, in some cases meeting descendants of the people who created and named the very dishes we were eating. And it was the discovery of these placesbeing open to whatever came my way, whether it was great food, a bad lover, wild music, or warm beer, keeping the channel clear, my eyes and heart open, and honest discourse going with myself that kept me grounded, hungry for more, and able to suck the marrow out of moments as well as succulent roasted bones. Whether I got to these places through a suggestion from a friend, a wrong turn, or a twist of fatethat was also part of the story. As were, in many cases, my dinner companions.

I live a life propelled by what a writer once described as the velocity of travel. I am grateful that landing the job as host on Man v. Food has allowed me the opportunity not only to see so much of this great, great country, but also to sample some of its finest foods, meet some of its greatest homespun cooks, and learn more about the history and, more importantly, about the humanity behind incredible foods in unlikely or unexpected places.

My dogged pursuit of new and different food experiences, whenever and wherever they are to be found, has led to all kinds of interactions everywhere, at unlikely times, with unlikely people, unlikely foods, and unlikely results. At times when Ive been lost, food, friends, and fate have helped show me the way homewherever home was at that time.